Through the Eyes of a Child
by TreeHugger
Summary: *FINALLY UPDATED*Legolas and his father King Thranduil have planned a day together. Anything at all could happen! This is for JastaElf's birthday!
1. Default Chapter

This is JastaElf's birthday present. Here is your story of young Legolas and his Adar! Bright blessings on you, mellon-nin!  
  
Thank you to al for beta-ing this chapter and keeping commas and participles in line!  
  
Through the Eyes of a Child  
  
Prologue  
  
A pair of bright blue eyes peered around the door, which was cracked open just enough for a small body to fit through. His quarry was unaware of his presence so the child slipped silently into the room, bare feet cushioned by the thick dark blue carpet that covered the chill grey stone floor, it's intricate pattern of twining vines and flowers dim in the early morning light. He crept to the foot of the bed and knelt swiftly, hands clapping over his grinning mouth when giggles threatened to erupt.  
  
The figure lying on the bed smiled slightly, a mere twitch of the lips. He didn't move, pretending to be lost in the dreams of his people as the blonde head popped up over the carved footboard. Quiet giggles drifted on the cool air, and the 'dreamer' was hard pressed to keep his face composed in lines of feigned slumber.  
  
The child's head disappeared once more. Small, half-stifled bubbles of mirth rose from the end of the bed where he crouched. He climbed slowly onto the footboard, balancing precariously at first, gripping the wood with his fingers and toes. A moment later he gave what he thought was a fierce, feral warrior's cry, launching himself at the 'dreamer'.  
  
But strong hands shot out, catching the lithe body in midair and held the squirming child over his head.  
  
"What are you doing, tithen emlin?" Thranduil asked the bright-eyed imp in his hands.  
  
The child giggled in delight and stiffly held his arms out at his sides, his legs thrust out behind him in a graceful curve.  
  
"I am a bird, Ada! A bird flying in the sky!" he cried, then giggled again as he tried to whistle like a bird and failed as his laughter kept interfering with what his lips needed to be doing.  
  
Thranduil chuckled and plopped him down onto the bed beside him, the mattress bouncing slightly under his weight.  
  
"You make a fine bird, little one," he said, brushing a stray strand of pale hair from his son's face. "A very fine bird indeed."  
  
Legolas smiled at his father, then snuggled closer, his head tucked against the broad shoulder, fingers twining in the long silky dark gold locks. He breathed in his father's familiar scent, eyes closing in contentment.  
  
The King of Mirkwood gently stroked the child's hair, which was hanging down his back in a long intricate braid. He noted how disheveled it felt and smiled.  
  
"Little Greenleaf, did you brush your hair this morning?"  
  
Legolas' head came up as he shifted from his side to his stomach. Blue eyes sparkled beneath dark brows.  
  
"Nay, Adar," he admitted. "I had no time. I had to go and remind Bofcabed and Laingur that today is the day!" He lisped with a grin, thumping his feet on the bed in excitement.  
  
"Ah, I see. You were afraid that our horses would forget. Hmm. I guess it is a good thing you remembered."  
  
"I would never forget, Ada. Never."  
  
Thranduil smiled down at him, seeing the solemn expression in his eyes.  
  
"I would never forget either," he reassured, placing his hand on top of the blonde head.  
  
"Then let's go!" Legolas jumped up, bouncing excitedly on the bed and giggling in delight.  
  
Thranduil shook his head and sat up.  
  
"I do not believe that I am appropriately attired for our venture," he said. "I do not know what everyone would think seeing their King ride forth in his sleeping shirt. Or their prince looking as if birds nested in his hair."  
  
Legolas stopped jumping and flung himself into his father's arms.  
  
"I love you, Ada," he said kissing the smooth cheek and curling against his father's broad chest, fingers twining in the dark gold hair once more, caressing the soft strands between his thumb and forefinger.  
  
Thranduil held him, remembering how from earliest babyhood this child had stroked and fondled hair, whether it was his own or the person he was with. He recalled watching him nurse at his mother's breast, fingers working in her long pale hair, blue eyes intent on her face as she smiled down at him with such joy.  
  
The King sighed, brows furrowed as he closed his eyes against the pain in his heart. It had been almost a year now since his beloved Luthiel had died, and though the pain was not as great, he knew that it would never entirely leave him. His arms tightened about his son as he pressed his face against the top of the child's head.  
  
"Are you ready to go, Ada?" Legolas asked without breaking the embrace.  
  
Thranduil chuckled and kissed him.  
  
"First I must dress, and we must do something with that hair of yours. Go bring me the brush."  
  
Legolas sighed, slid to the edge of the great bed, and dropped to the floor. Thranduil suppressed a smile as the child trudged across the room, scuffing his feet on the carpet.  
  
"The sooner we get it done, the sooner we can leave, Little Greenleaf," he called softly as his son reluctantly picked up the ornate silver hairbrush. Thranduil could see the frown on the boy's face as he looked down at it in disgust.  
  
"But it hurts when it is brushed," the child complained as he crossed the room once more.  
  
"If you would brush it more often then it wouldn't get so tangled."  
  
Legolas sighed as he handed his father the brush and climbed back up onto the bed. He seated himself in front of his father, facing away from him shoulders slumped.  
  
Thranduil did smile then, and began to unbraid the long hair. He ran his fingers through it to loosen the long braid, clumsily plaited by childish fingers the night before. It was very tangled and he found bits of twigs and leaves buried in the ashen gold. He shook his head as he pulled them out gently, hearing the soft muttering sounds Legolas was making. Vanimelda his nurse would not be pleased if she could see this. Obviously the little imp had managed to evade his nurse the night before, as this tangled braid and collection of flora attested to. He worked the brush through the fine strands; easing out snarls and tangles as he went. At last it was smooth and shining, spilling down his back. The King laid aside the heavy brush and began to deftly make the high ponytail, and twist it into a topknot.  
  
"There you are, tithen emlin. Go and fetch your bow and arrows while I get dressed. I will meet you in the Hall."  
  
The child hopped off the bed chirping happily, and flew across the room.  
  
"I am very excited, Ada!" he called from the wide open door.  
  
"I am as well," Thranduil smiled, standing and carrying the brush to the table. "Now go. I will join you very soon. A Warrior must be ready when the King arrives."  
  
"I will be, Ada!" Legolas grinned and turned, running down the corridor as fast as his bare feet would take him.  
  
Thranduil went back to the bed and picked up the small pile of leaves and twigs he had taken from the child's hair. He held them in his hand, smiling down at them before moving to place them on the table by the hairbrush.  
  
He dressed swiftly in greens and browns, the forest colors of his people. Then efficiently fixed his own hair, running the brush through the golden locks and swiftly re-plaiting the braids that marked him as a Warrior of Mirkwood. He pulled on sturdy leather boots and grabbed up a grey cloak.  
  
Today was indeed the day. He had promised Legolas that they would ride out together, just the two of them, and spend the entire day in each other's company. He was also looking forward to it. He did not know what this day might bring; infinite possibilities lay before them. A smile tugged at his lips as he strode down the hall.  
  
"I too, am very excited, little Greenleaf," he said quietly, and then hastened toward the Hall to meet his son. "Very excited indeed." 


	2. Chapter 1 Brave Warriors and Hairbrushe...

Author's Note - This is set entirely in Jasta's Universe, so with her permission I have used her characters to populate it as is only right. She has been very generous with allowing me to use information that she has shared with me about events and happenings in her Universe, for which I am eternally grateful. I want to thank her for promptly answering my seemingly endless queries about things, and any missteps in this wonderful world she has created are my own.  
  
Also, I have made some minor changes to the Prologue of this story, and I ask that you peruse it once more as you may note some minor discrepancies if you do not.  
  
Thanks to al my beautiful beta!  
  
MAJOR CUTENESS ALERT!! :)  
  
Disclaimer: I own NONE of the characters portrayed herein. Master Tolkien owns Thranduil, Legolas, and Oropher. JastaElf owns the rest.except the horses. They are mine, and a gift to her. :) As for making any money. . .none whatsoever. :)  
  
Chapter 1 - Brave Warriors and Hairbrushes  
  
  
  
The start of the trip that morning was filled with bright quiet chatter as Legolas stroked and kissed Bothcabed, his own chubby pony, and Laingur, Thranduil's tall chestnut stallion. The great horse gazed down at the Elfling, the dark eyes filled with patience as small hands patted and stroked his powerful neck; the child's bright voice chirping away in excitement, making the animal's ears twitch.  
  
Thranduil chuckled, running a hand down Laingur's velvety nose, and then gently reached up to scratch the perked ears.  
  
"You look very fine this morning, rochellon-nin (my horse friend)," he commented quietly, running his long slender fingers through the green and white ribbons that had been braided into his mount's long burnished mane. The horse snorted, shaking its head contemptuously.  
  
"Aren't they pretty, Ada?" Legolas asked with a smile as he admired Bothcabed's flowing ribbons of sky blue and red. "Saeros did it. He wanted the horses to look nice for our big day."  
  
"Saeros? I see," a wry smile touched his lips. "We must remember to thank him when we return. They do indeed look very nice." The king's blue eyes scanned the area of the stables, but the tracker was nowhere in sight. That he was somewhere nearby Thranduil had no doubt, but the only people in evidence were a few grooms who wore amused smiles as they went about their jobs. "You must bear your ribbons proudly, Laingur, even as Bothcabed does. It is tithen emlin's big day after all, and a few concessions must be made."  
  
"He likes Saeros' ribbons, Ada. I know he does," Legolas chirped in reassurance as he stared up at the large animal, admiration shining in his eyes. "He told me so."  
  
"Yes, I am certain that he did," Thranduil agreed with a glance at the horse, who whickered and nuzzled the child's topknot, acknowledging that perhaps the ribbons weren't quite so terrible after all. "Ah, here is Brethilas with our provender. . . and a few other necessaries."  
  
The Crown Prince of the Woodland Realm smiled at the two as he approached. He nodded to his father then settled the saddlebags embossed with oak and ash leaves over Laingur's broad shoulders.  
  
"Are you certain that this is enough, hir nin (my lord)?" the young Elf asked, winking down at his little brother.  
  
"There are only the two of us, nin ion (my son), not an army. This is quite sufficient I assure you."  
  
"For two with normal appetites, yes, but on occasion I have heard this one," he patted Legolas affectionately on the head, "say he was so hungry he could eat a bear. And well, I was not able to fit a bear into the saddlebags."  
  
Legolas stared up at his brother in amazement, blue eyes wide.  
  
"Did you really try to fit a bear into the saddlebags, Bref'las?"  
  
When Brethilas drew a breath to affirm this "fact" in utmost sincerity, only belied by his twinkling eyes, Thranduil cleared his throat and shook his head, though his own eyes shone with amusement.  
  
"I believe it is time that we were on our way, O youngest Prince," he said with a grin.  
  
Legolas nearly leapt into the air in excitement.  
  
"Let's go!" he cried happily, and bounced over to Bothcabed, who turned his head to look at his young master, the brown eyes placid.  
  
"Here, I will give you a boost up, little one," Brethilas offered, bending and cupping his hands together so the child could scramble onto the pony's broad back. He stood, straightening his little brother's miniature bow and quiver so they rested more comfortably on the small shoulders, then he slowly moved away from them. "Have fun," he called as the two swept out of the stables, Legolas looking back waving, a huge grin on his face. Then he turned, sitting very straight and looking very important and princely. Brethilas smiled after them. He knew what his father had planned for the next few days, and he found himself remembering the time he had ridden there with his father for the first time. He wondered what Legolas would think of it, his mind recalling his own feelings and impressions. He smiled slightly, and moved slowly from the stables, making his way back to the palace.  
  
  
  
***************************************  
  
"Where are we going, Ada?" Legolas asked as they trotted down the path leading south from the palace, then wended slowly to the west through stands of tall oaks and beeches which were displaying their summer finery of brilliant green. The child wondered if they would stay on the path traveling until they reached the edge of Mirkwood, and then perhaps travel on to the Great River beyond. Or perhaps even to the Misty Mountains!  
  
"We will follow this path for a time yet, nin ion," Thranduil answered with a smile, watching from the corner of his eye as Legolas frowned, not finding this a particularly satisfying answer, and allowing Bothcabed to lag behind once more.  
  
A few minutes later Legolas kicked his pony gently, urging him to trot alongside Laingur again.  
  
"Where are we going, Ada?"  
  
"Well, O Curious One, we will travel west for a time following the path, then we will be turning south."  
  
"Sou'f?" The child's eyes widened in disbelief, and he stared up at his Adar. "But Ada, we don't go that way. Sou'f is bad."  
  
"We aren't going that far south, tithen emlin," Thranduil chuckled, leaning over to rest one hand on the child's fair hair. "Do not worry. I know where we are going, and I will not get us lost or take us anywhere that is bad."  
  
"Where are we going, Ada?"  
  
"Legolas, if I had wanted you to know I would have told you already. Be patient. We have a long way to go yet."  
  
"A long way, Ada? A real long way? Like all the way to Lorien maybe?"  
  
"That IS a long way, but no, we are not going to Lorien," Thranduil chuckled once more. He wondered how many times he would hear those five words, "Where are we going, Ada?" before the day was over. "Before we arrive at This Place," he said, turning to look down at the child, his face set in lines so serious that Legolas gasped slightly, his eyes widening once again, "we are going to make a camp tonight, and continue on tomorrow before we arrive. Does this please you?"  
  
He knew that he needn't have asked, for Legolas' eyes sparkled, and his rosebud mouth gaped open in an "o" of delight.  
  
"Camping? Really, Ada? Really? Just you and me, camping under Elberef's stars?"  
  
"Just you and me camping under Elbereth's stars, tithen emlin. And the horses too, of course."  
  
"Oh yeth! Laingur and Bofcabed too! We are going to have so much fun! I love camping! Can we shoot a rabbit and cook it over a fire and eat it? And I won't haf to get a baf or nofing!"  
  
Thranduil stifled the laughter that bubbled in his chest, and cleared his throat.  
  
"Legolas, warriors must learn to travel quietly through the forest," he cautioned, watching as the little prince quickly stifled his voice and nodded.  
  
"I know, Ada. That is one of the rules I know. Warriors must be quiet. Don't worry, Ada. I can be quiet."  
  
"Yes, little one, I know you can. Your excitement is understandable."  
  
"Are you excited, Ada? Are you as excited as me?" The pitch of his voice raised once again, the eyes as bright as "Elberef's stars" as he gazed up at his beloved Adar.  
  
Thranduil turned to look down at him, noting that Bothcabed was not particularly happy by the swift long-legged pace set by Laingur.  
  
"Yes, little Greenleaf, I am just as excited as you are. It has been some time since I have camped out under the stars, and I am looking forward to it. We will shoot a rabbit, cook it, and eat it. And I won't have to get a bath or nothing either."  
  
Legolas seemed satisfied at last, and he allowed his pony to return to his slower gait. They rode in companionable silence for a time, pausing occasionally to observe the deer moving silently through the trees, or to watch squirrels cavorting in the branches. When Legolas reached for his bow and small arrow, certain that he could take down one of the large deer, Thranduil shook his head and moved his hand in a downward motion. Legolas nodded, his fingers releasing his weapons. He was disappointed that he hadn't been allowed to fell one of the great beasts, but Ada had explained that they still had some way to go yet before they reached their camp, and they didn't want to haul a carcass with them that far. They would wait until they had chosen a site, and then go hunting for their evening meal. His Ada was very wise, and therefore he must be right.  
  
It wasn't long before Bothcabed was kicked into motion again, and the bright blue eyes of the Elfling were once more on his Adar.  
  
"When are we going to get there, Ada?"  
  
**********************************************************  
  
The small campfire threw sparks into the air, the wood snapping and groaning as it transformed into the small red stars that floated upward to the heavens. The two Elves were seated beside it, Legolas snuggled on his father's lap, one lock of golden hair twined between his small fingers, rubbing it against his cheek and lips. He was very proud of the fat rabbit he had shot for their repast, and had helped to cook it over the fire, turning the spit his Ada had fashioned for just this purpose. He was so happy that he hadn't even minded having his face and hands washed after their meal. His small belly was full, and he was very contented.  
  
Thranduil shifted his position slightly, feeling the cool, smooth bark against his back, and Legolas' small warm body against his chest. Laingur and Bothcabed stood a few feet away, grazing quietly, long tails flicking. The sound of crickets, toads, and nocturnal birds filled the soft air. In the distance an owl hooted, and the king smiled, feeling very contented. He had chosen a small grove as their camp sight, ringed with towering deciduous trees, the warm leafy scent surrounding them in comfort and peace.  
  
"Ada?"  
  
"Yes, Legolas?"  
  
"Can Nana see the stars?"  
  
Thranduil frowned slightly, his arm tightening about the child's slim body.  
  
"I do not know, tithen emlin. I have never been where she is," he answered in a low voice, his eyes on those very stars that he felt might not shine in the Halls of Mandos; stars that he hoped did shine there.  
  
"Nanef always liked the stars, Ada," Legolas whispered, feeling the all-too-familiar sadness well up within him. "They should let her see them. An Elf should be able to see the stars. Elberef made them for us, you know."  
  
"Yes, nin ion. I know." Thranduil swallowed against his own pain and straightened. "Where is your hairbrush?" he asked, changing the subject to one he knew would distract this young one from melancholy thoughts.  
  
"Hairbrush? I didn't bring it, Ada," Legolas said, staring over at the saddlebags that Brethilas had given them, a frown creasing his lips. "I didn't fink I would need it in the woods."  
  
"Oh really? Well, perhaps you had better go and see if Brethilas thought you would need it."  
  
"Bref'las wouldn't pack it," he declared, deliberately snuggling down even farther into his Adar's lap, fingers twining more tightly about the golden hair. "He knows I don't need it in the woods."  
  
"Who told you that you don't need it in the woods, little Greenleaf?" Thranduil smiled, knowing that the child couldn't see his face.  
  
"A little bird tol' me," he said with assurance.  
  
"A little bird, eh?"  
  
Thranduil felt silent giggles begin to tremble through the slender body.  
  
"Yeth." Small bubbles of laughter followed this single word, and two small hands crept up to cover a smiling mouth.  
  
"I see. Where did you see this bird?"  
  
"At home."  
  
"Really? I would like to meet this little bird sometime. It must be quite marvelous."  
  
"It ith. Very marvelous." Giggles somehow managed to escape the laced fingers, and Legolas bent forward pushing his face into his crossed legs.  
  
"I am certain that it is. Is it a little golden bird by any chance?"  
  
"Yeth! It ith!" Legolas straightened and turned, moving onto his knees between his Adar's legs. "It ith me, Ada! I am the little golden bird!" He flung his arms about Thranduil's neck, giggling helplessly.  
  
Thranduil laughed heartily, and embraced him.  
  
"Yes, Legolas, you are the little golden bird. My sweet tithen emlin."  
  
A few moments later, Legolas curled up in his lap once more. Thranduil gently loosed the pale topknot.  
  
"Tithen emlin?"  
  
"Yeth, Ada?"  
  
"Go find your hairbrush -"  
  
"But-"  
  
"Go find your hairbrush, and I will tell you a story."  
  
Reluctantly, the child left the comfort and safety of his father's lap to move across their camp, his slender form swallowed by shadows for just a moment. Then he came back, carrying the dreaded hairbrush.  
  
"I see that Brethilas thought you did need that in the woods," Thranduil commented wryly as the child seated himself once more in his lap, handing him the brush.  
  
"I gueth he did," the little bird said, his shoulders drooping slightly as his Ada ran his fingers through the fine silk that adorned his youngest child's head.  
  
Thranduil didn't comment on this further, but slowly and carefully began to brush the Elfling's hair.  
  
"Tell me what story you would like to hear," he said in a quiet, soothing voice, feeling the little one's body begin to sag with weariness. It had been a very exciting day.  
  
"Tell me one about brave warriors, Ada! Brave warriors with bows and swords!" These words had barely left his mouth when a huge yawn escaped.  
  
"Brave warriors. . .hmm. . .Yes, I believe I know a few about brave warriors."  
  
A short time later, hair brushed and smoothed, the brush laid aside, and the tale of a brave warrior rising quietly to the stars in a soothing well-loved voice, Legolas gave up the battle he was fighting with slumber. He nestled in his Adar's arms, fingers clasped in the long golden hair, and fell asleep feeling safe and loved.  
  
"Good night, my little golden bird," Thranduil murmured, gently stroking his son's smooth, warm cheek. "May your dreams be filled with brave warriors and bright stars," he smiled tenderly, "and no hairbrushes."  
  
TBC  
  
Authors Notes the Second Act Well, where are they going? Only two people know: the author of this story and her muse - JastaElf. :) Here is a hint (haha) Forodren-tham Glinthaun. That should tell you absolutely everything! ;)  
  
I left the Major Cuteness Alert on, since al commented that it was necessary. :)  
  
Let me say that your response to the prologue of this story floored me! Usually I take the time to respond individually, but since I am running very, very behind the game with this story, and I want to get it up ASAP. I apologize for the length of time between posts, and yes, I know exactly how long it has taken . . . down to the very hour! It won't happen again! I hope. . .Let me say in way of explanation that I can't just write something to write something. It has to feel right or it is no go. I had begun this chapter a while back - yes, really! - but I knew it wasn't what I wanted. So I waited. . .and waited. . . and waited. I could have given you this chapter earlier, but it wouldn't have been the chapter it should have been. Those of you who write probably know exactly what I am saying. So when the muse for this story ( she looks just like a miniature Jasta btw dressed in a flowing green gown with silver embroidery and seed pears wearing a silver circlet of oak and ash leaves with tiny acorns on her head) finally - finally! - told me the real chapter 1 I immediately went into overdrive and finished it in one day. I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed penning it.  
  
I see that the hair brushing has struck familiar chords with many of you, either remembering your own painful experience as a child, or the adventures with your own children. I am glad. That shows it was "right." Elves do have gorgeous hair as we all know, but I think that on occasion Elflings that are active must have an occasional snarl or tangle. :) After all I am a grown up, and after a rousing RP with the neighborhood children outside (LOTR of course - though I must admit I am usually an Orc, a Balrog, or a Nazgul O.O) my hair has leaves and grass in it. That is part of life. And then comes the hairbrush. . .  
  
A couple of you asked how old Legolas was in this story. He is about 6 Human years old, or 15 in Elf years. It takes place in the Third Age. This is a prequel to JastaElf's fics "Leaf and Branch" and "Dark Leaf", though it comes after her "Promises to Keep." No, this story is not dead, it was merely taking a break in the Halls of Mandos until TreeHugger begged for it to be released before she went insane with guilt and worry! ;) The Valar are good and wise and they do know what they are doing. . . or so I keep telling myself. Oh, yes. There will NOT be any of the zaniness you have come to expect in my stories. What is this? No spiders, black squirrels, or grouchy archers. . .they all exist in my Universe, and well, they are on vacation. . . waiting for me to call them back. So this is a very different story from my others. Also, Dragon_of_the_North about marrying Thranduil and adopting Legolas - well, you had better talk to Jasta about that. ;) I think she has first dibs on that glorious king of Mirkwood. 


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